Prelude
by Ser-A-Man
Summary: Leslie's story before meeting Jess... Sometimes life in the suburbs isn't perfect.
1. One More Month to Go

(A/n): I decided to re-make the fanfic, because I rushed the plot too quickly. My sincerest apologies... :(

A good story in my opinion needs characters that develop gradually, but the setting's still the same.

Anyway, onto "Prelude"!

**DISCLAIMER: THE BOOK AND ITS CHARACTERS BELONG TO KATHERINE PATERSON. THE 2007 FILM BELONGS TO WALT DISNEY PICTURES AND WALDEN MEDIA.**

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Prelude Chapter 1: "One More Month to Go…"

Leslie said to herself by the staircase while gently and carefully tying her long, messy hair into a bun. It wasn't exactly in good terms with the straightener Judy bought, so she often tied it into a bun. From doing this every weekday before going to school, she sometimes wished her hair would flow beautifully in the breeze without being messy and not remain in a single spot… or have none at all, both would've worked for her. Then she wouldn't have to worry about waking up as early as 5 AM.

Sweet aromas of toast, bacon and hash browns coming from the kitchen allured her downstairs. She took a peek on the room to see Bill preparing two peanut butter and jelly toasts.

"Morning Leslie!" Bill jubilantly waved at her.

"Morning Bill. The toast looks really good," Leslie complimented while breathing in the tempting smell of her father's cooking.

"Why thank you."

"Are you making Judy her breakfast," Leslie asked.

"Actually, this toaster's for you, dear…" Bill said with his bright, youthful smile. After digging two holes and scribbling a crooked smile ( :} ) on both breads, finalizing his masterpiece, he properly stored them in a brown paper bag and handed them to Leslie, "Here you go. I hope you enjoy your recess."

"Thank you Bill…" Leslie gladly accepted the heartwarming gift, and showed appreciation by hugging him.

"You're welcome," Bill wrapped Leslie lovingly in his arms in turn, stroking her hair with his fingernails. The smooth metal from his silver ring tingled her a bit, but the feeling was still warm.

"Maybe…" Leslie muttered.

"Hmm…" Bill slowly released her.

Leslie stepped back and turned to the wall clock, which snapped her out of that momentary bliss, "Oh, no! It's seven o'clock!" The bus is going to-" she was about to dash out of the kitchen when Bill's firm grip on her shoulder abruptly stopped her.

"I'm driving you this time, sweetie. Don't worry."

"Wait- you mean, I'm not taking the bus today?"

"No, not today, so don't get too hyper; only your mother and I are allowed to do that," he chuckled after reminding Leslie their undying love for coffee.

"Yeah, and I'm allowed to call you by your first names, unlike most kids," Leslie said, turning back to him.

Bill sighed as he lifted a mug of espresso. "It's just that we feel old if you call us 'Dad' and 'Mom'…" He took a sip.

"Well, _are_ you," Leslie grinned deviously.

"Maybe, but you'll be thankful we'd rather feel young anyways, Les," Bill winked, "Trust me." Another sip.

He then called his _adoring_ wife, who probably was still looking outside the master's window upstairs for a pop-up inspiration, "Oh, Honey, breakfast is coming!"

"I'll be right there!" Judy's echoes can be heard throughout half of the mansion.

* * *

After Judy revealed presented downstairs in her sleeping garments Bill couldn't resist staring at, the Burke family ate a serving worthy of a breakfast: tender, juicy bacon, eggs, and hash browns. Leslie thought of Bill more of a chef than a novelist whenever they eat like people living in the White House; his cooking was quite better than Judy, which she surprisingly admitted, too.

_How bloated are we_, she thought; she could barely stand up after all that blessing on the lavished round table.

"Perhaps a round of applause for our wonderful chef here, Bill!" Judy suggested, and she and Leslie did so gladly.

"…who just recently transformed into-" Bill continued as he put on his black, long-sleeve, buttoned shirt and his driving hat, "Leslie's honorable chauffeur!" He paced joyfully to the car keys by the counter, "Is the star-pupil ready for school?"

"Always more than ready, my good man!" Leslie formally responded. She nearly forgot that she was stuffed and walked slowly towards him after recklessly leaping halfway.

"All right. Let's hit the road then!" Bill playfully jumped the car keys from his hand twice while heading into to the garage after her.

"Come back soon, dear-," Judy cried but her voice quickly faded when Leslie opened the garage door.

* * *

On the way to school, Bill noticed Leslie somewhat vibrating on the passenger's seat.

"Someone's excited," Bill said.

"You bet I am! Oh, tune to Elvis, I haven't heard from him for a while!" Leslie pointed to the car's radio.

Bill laughed, though his hand wasn't even reaching for it. "Anything special going on at school?"

"Ah, the same."

"Meaning…"

"You know…" Leslie stopped shaking and faced him, "…my teacher, Mr. Thomas- you've met him before right?"

Bill looked at his window briefly before giving her an answer, "I think I did... That guy with glossy fashion sense?"

Leslie giggled, "Yeah, that guy. He's always like that…" Her father rarely saw him, but, without a doubt, she knew exactly what kind of person he was: fancy, always glittering everywhere like a gem, and who could forget his bright, unchanging expression; not even once did she caught the middle-aged man anywhere without a smile between those rosy cheeks.

"Anyway," she continued, "he keeps the class pretty active; we learn something new everyday, we often do classroom activities; he constantly challenges us."

"That's good, that's good…" Bill nodded, "What about your classmates?"

"Same."

"Again?"

"Yup…"

An unexpected silence came, which felt quite awkward for Leslie. Words usually and endlessly flowed between her and Bill whenever they converse, banter, or interact at all. However, this conversation today seemed to have overcome it.

"Enlighten me, Les…" Bill eventually and fortunately broke the short silence between them.

Leslie was feeling uncomfortable doing him this favor, "Well… they're nice and…"

"Go on…"

"Nice, like-," She had the words to describe them, but has a very difficult time putting them together to make sense, "They… mind themselves, I guess," she chuckled nervously.

"No one bullying you right?"

"Of course not," Leslie answered hastily, gazing him with unbelieving eyes, "_no _one is bullying me, I guarantee you that."

"You sounded quite uneasy there…"

"I.."

Just as Leslie thought she'll have to go through another awkward silence with Bill, the car thankfully stopped; they were at school now.

"I'll tell you everything later." Leslie hurriedly removed her seatbelt and jumped out of the car.

"Wait!" Bill cried hoarsely, flinching her.

"Y-yeah?"

"Have a great day at school."

"Oh… thanks!" Leslie went back inside to let him sweetly kiss her forehead. Before entering the enormous campus through the golden gate, she turned back and waved at Bill, exchanging goodbyes once more.

She brushed aside her worry about what happened earlier for now; she was certain no one here would ever help, or even bother ask, her, as they, even Mr. Thomas sometimes, only _do _mind themselves… Oh how she wished this school year and others before it would fly fast and graduate from college at eighteen years old; she felt like a lone stallion who got separated from her fellows and sent into a field full of spoiled, stout ponies.

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(A/n): Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Updates vary from weekly to monthly, but I'll do my best to update. :)

Reviews are welcome.

- Ser-A-Man


	2. Annual School Olympics

(A/n): Morning readers! :) Update went much faster, because I had _soo... _much time during Christmas doing this along with the alt. Ch. 1. Next chapter's going to take a while though, so I reaalllyy hope that doesn't bother you guys much.

To Chapter 2!

**DISCLAIMER: THE BOOK AND ITS CHARACTERS BELONG TO KATHERINE PATERSON. THE 2007 FILM BELONGS TO WALT DISNEY PICTURES AND WALDEN MEDIA.**

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Prelude Chapter 2: Annual School Olympics

Leslie sat near the windows, so she wouldn't hear any sounds of boasts and laughter coming from most of her classmates. Everyday, since first grade, she would rather hear the morning chimes of the school bell. She would time them in her head, often stare at its dangling tongue and use that to guide her in timing them while chanting "to" and "fro" just to keep the little hobby interesting. If her timings were correct she'd address herself as bell-ringer and even imagine herself as one, although the likeliness of falling at a high distance would slightly frighten her.

"Excuse me… Leslie?" a male voice interrupted her daydreaming.

"Yeah?" Leslie turned around; it was Jonathan's, her seatmate.

"You rarely hang out with anyone. You should see my awesome math awards sometime; they shine like brilliant gold." He ended in a musical tone.

"No, thank you. I think I've seen them already," Leslie lied.

Jonathan fell for it, but didn't care, "C'mon. Not even one more time?" he insisted.

"No, not even one more time. Thank you, again," Leslie refused again in an irritating manner.

Jonathan scoffed, "Your loss, lady," he turned around and left to hound another girl.

Leslie shook her head as she watched him; it was much better if he or anyone in the class was anywhere but his assigned seat. _What exactly am I losing here? _She discreetly mocked his sneering. _Idiot…_

* * *

_One forty-five_. Dismissal drew close quicker than Leslie expected; most of her belongings were still on her study table. Mr. Thomas, in his glittering blazer and silky-smooth dress pants, tapped the chalk into his desk and asked heartily, "So, you kids ready for the weekend?" The class threw out different responses, but they all meant, "Yes".

"Are you now?" He stood from his ornamented chair and paced forth and back across the center of the classroom, "Because the three of you will be participating in a certain event that will benefit all of us as well as the school itself…"

"What event, Mr. Thomas," Michaela on the front row asked.

"Why, the Annual School Olympics, my dear," then there it was again, that reputable smile of his, "This school's district has invited us- well, both fourth and fifth grade classes, to compete against other schools at the same district in three contests: academics, athletics, and, my favorite, fashion."

"Fashion?" Leslie slightly tilted her head to the right.

"Yes, Ms. Burke. Dressing best is also key to success," Mr. Thomas replied cheerfully. "If this class wins all three competitions, then we'll be rewarded generously…" He paused for a while, "…with money. A hundred for each of the class, to be specific," he added while gazing at each of his students carefully.

"And," he continued, back to his chair, "A two-week trip to Anaheim, California, where we'll check-in at one of the most prestigious theme parks in the whole… United States," he drew out colorful brochures from his coat pocket onto his desk and proudly raised his hand towards the heavens above as he cried, "DISNEYLAND!"

From their widening eyes, that certainly caught the attention of the whole class. Even the once-uninterested Leslie was immediately drawn to it; She has heard Bill's stories of California before, about the gray and white seagulls, the jumping seals, and the cable cars in San Francisco, to be exact, but not of- _DISNEYLAND!_

"So, any volunteers?" Mr. Thomas then slammed his hairy hands onto the sleek wood.

Leslie excitedly raised her right hand… and so did everyone else.

"I see…" Mr. Thomas smirked as he gently rested his left, rosy cheek on his hand, "hmm… then how 'bout this? Write your names in a slip of paper and place them in an empty jar…" He searched under the table, "…or any kind of container since I don't have any… aha!"

He revealed himself with an empty fish bowl, "Here we go… this fish bowl would do. Any three of the names that I pick here will participate in the event. You can take a brochure afterwards." He stood up and leaned against the door. "Oh, and keep a single-file line, please… this isn't a race."

The class hastily inked their names on their slips of paper and lined up to drop them on the bowl while muttering that theirs would be picked.

Leslie, on the other hand, waited. Bill once mentioned to her when Judy used to frequently show card tricks before bedtime that luck, or coincidence, was but an illusion, concealing tricks behind it, so she devised a plan to guarantee her name would be picked from the fish bowl discreetly.

She waited until the last student before her went in line. Next, she carefully tore her college-ruled paper "borrowed" from her parents' room for her own stories and slowly traced each letter.

"…L-I-E. B-U-R-K-E," she chanted in her head.

After folding the paper by half, she stood up and precisely dropped hers at the center of the bowl, on top of the other slips. She bit her lip as she turned around, and, along with the brochure, walked back to her seat.

"Thank you, Ms. Burke," Mr. Thomas said, moving back to his spot, "Now, after I shake this bowl, like… so," he faintly grunted as he respectively swirled and shook up and down the bowl twice, "the first three names that I pick will enter the Olympics…" He carefully placed his hand out of the bowl and back to name the first competitor. "First up is…"

He unfolded a paper, "Davis, James!"

James shrieked, "YES!"

_Huh_? Leslie didn't expect this to happen, but kept her hopes high.

"Second," Mr. Thomas snappily took another slip, "Adams, Bridget!"

"Woo-hoo!" Bridget cried.

Now Leslie was scared. She couldn't afford to miss the chance of competing, she just couldn't. She made it her mission to win this trip to Anaheim and Disneyland for herself and her class, even perhaps her destiny, like O'Sullivan's manifest destiny. She pleaded she wouldn't have to wait for this school year to end boringly, like the previous ones.

"And last…" Mr. Thomas wiggled his picking fingers to bring tension for the class. After removing the papers sticking to his hand, he unfolded the one in his grasp. He held a deep breath, "The last one is…"

_Please be my name. Please, please be my name_. Leslie shut her eyes tightly.

"Why, this slip says…"

She popped an eye open, seeing Mr. Thomas' agape mouth which spoke thunderously.

"…Moyer, Hayes!"

* * *

Leslie's whole body melted inside her in despair even after already the last name. She almost felt like crying, but she held her breath. _Not now. At least not here…_

Then Hayes said in a whisper, "Umm… uh…"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Mr. Thomas moved closer to him.

"I… don't think I'm… ready for it. I'm sorry, but no- I'm sorry." Hayes spoke slightly louder.

"Huh… that's a shame-" but Leslie couldn't restrain herself the moment Hayes declined.

"I'll take his place!" her words flew fast. The whole class responded by staring at her with widened eyes.

Pure, awkward silence. _Darn my stupid mouth…_ she scolded herself. _You know better than to interrupt a teacher_.

"You would now…" Mr. Thomas crossed his arms giving her that… smile again.

Leslie assumed he was talking about her rudeness and shook her head, "Mr. Thomas, I apologize. What I did was unacceptable."

"Unacceptable!?" Mr. Thomas unexpectedly laughed. Loud. The confused Leslie looked up and saw her teacher's clownish expression that lasted for a short time.

"Ah, Leslie…" he let out a few more, "You're one hilarious kid, you know that?"

"Uh… I suppose… I am," she stuttered the way Hayes did.

"C'mon!" he tapped her right shoulder before turning to Hayes, "See, Hayes, this is the kind of person you look up to: full of confidence and determination. The lot of you!.. In fact." He marched elegantly back to the front, "What I truly wanted to find out of doing this little lottery nonsense is the will to do whatever it takes to get a position in the Olympics."

"But…" he slammed his desk again, "the true test shows itself after jumping through that large barrier. You'll only succeed if you possess remarkable, unmatchable talents. And," another slam; _Boy does he love slamming that poor desk_, "let me tell you: A lot of fierce competitors aim to show those to the whole audience, possibly the world, if they must."

"For now," he dramatically lowered his voice, "let's give a round of applause to Ms. Burke here," he took a bow, "Thank you for that outstanding demonstration today."

The class did so in a joyful manner; hand-clapping came along with cheering voices; even Hayes, whom she barely saw in class, was applauding her. This was Leslie's first time in her entire school life to have been noticed or glorified without the need for inexcusable boasting. She smiled; it felt wonderful, and she preferred to have it no other way.


	3. Training Time

**DISCLAIMER: THE BOOK AND ITS CHARACTERS BELONG TO KATHERINE PATERSON. THE 2007 FILM BELONGS TO WALT DISNEY PICTURES AND WALDEN MEDIA.**

(A/n) - below Chapter story.

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Prelude Chapter 3: Training Time

Days like this ought to last longer, though Leslie knew the dismissal bell had to ring sometime. Time was not on her side; fifteen minutes seemed more like two hours when the lottery began, and that wonderful moment she was experiencing now went for thirty seconds.

Mr. Thomas cued the rush of footsteps, "Dismissed!" Before one could notice, only himself, and Leslie remained in the classroom. "Why not join the happy flock?" he asked afterwards.

"I prefer not to," she answered, still smiling, "Besides, they easily split into bits."

"Do they? Well, don't stay here too long then," Mr. Thomas stood up. After fixing his pants with a huff, he and his sleek black suitcase took off as well, "Until then, my wonderful students." And he was gone, not without his grin sticking to her head.

_Wait- "students," he said?_ She looked around the rows of seats to hopefully correct herself. Nope, Hayes Moyer didn't leave yet.

"Why are you still here?" she wondered.

"Same reason," Hayes replied, straightening his dark tie.

"Oh."

"…And simply because I don't like crowds," he said.

"I'm not a fan of crowds myself," Leslie orderly kept her belongings into her bag. Their loud clanking muffled whatever he was muttering. "I'm sorry, come again?"

"I just wanted to say thanks for- well, thank you for um…"

She gave him a chuckle, "You're welcome, Hayes… See you next week." Then she left the room.

"Y-yeah, see you…" she door slammed shut.

Her thoughts on Hayes swirled around her in the hallway. _Why do I keep forgetting that he's my classmate? and what's that stuttering for; he doesn't have to be shy or-_

No. She was being sidetracked; she quickly shook her head. The Olympics required her full attention, and that's the first thing she made sure Bill and Judy will hear from her jittering mouth.

* * *

"How wonderful," Judy said, "a trip to Disneyland sounds very promising, besides earning a hundred dollars."

"I couldn't agree more…" Bill turned to her, "you should take pictures of this 'Disneyland' with our camera upstairs."

Leslie could see from their expressions that they couldn't contain themselves after hearing the brilliant news. Up to the point they forgot that she and two of her classmates still had to compete with other schools and win the Olympics. "You guys know my school still has to win the event in order to _win _a trip to Disneyland, right," she placed her hands on her waist.

"We know, Leslie," Judy nodded, "but we're confident you will win this, no doubt."

"So… is it okay if I compete? I mean Mr. Thomas really wanted me to," Leslie asked with her wide, sparkling eyes. Boy, the trick never gets old, especially for women like her.

Bill and Judy looked at each other, first. They're likely going to say, "Yes," which she actually got from Bill after turning back to their daughter. His mouth was half-open when he was nearly off-balanced by her sudden reach for his slim neck. She didn't know whether she interrupted him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you soo… much!" Leslie cried joyfully. She gave the same affection to Judy and she laughed. After dashing upstairs to finish her homework, a fleeting problem, only then did she realized one of her markers was missing from her bag. Thinking she probably dropped them by the front door, she trotted back downstairs. A voice that said, "replaced" stopped her; it came from Bill. Odd how they were still downstairs, talking calmly.

"…did you know that?" It went on. Nothing else for curious Leslie to do but to crawl closer to the bars to hear the conversation better, without being detected, of course.

"Bill," replied Judy's quietly, "what are you going on about?"

"Do you remember the charity program the school was initially planning of running?"

"What charity program?"

"The one for the wandering street performers at Times Square."

Like a booming sound, Judy gasped in awe, "Oh! I recall the last time we've been there! All those people in ragged clothing, yet they are _amazing_ performers."

"Exactly the kind of people I'm talking about," Bill said enthusiastically, "One wonders how anyone with such talent wouldn't bother living life they deserve…"

In a second, they've already forgotten about the charity program. "I know right, and you, my darling, just gave me an idea. Come," Leslie heard her mother's loud, passionate affection on either Bill's cheek or lips before the two drumming sounds of the stairs. In response, she stood up and slowly moved the opposite direction and, while passing by them, gave an innocent look returned with two smiles and a soft stroke on her head.

A strange feeling came upon her as she took her last step from the stairs. Maybe they were just being nice; maybe somehow they knew she was eavesdropping and just gave her that smile so she'd seemed having the upper hand. The Burkes are sometimes known to play the unwise, and then either you know it or not, they successfully surprise you, especially Judy; the way she has her way with Bill most of the time, she could make anything function her way in a snap. However, Leslie seemed the only Burke with a flaw, since her family trick unfortunately didn't work on the lottery back at Mr. Thomas' class.

* * *

_Let's not be ridiculous here, Leslie… That's impossible. They surely didn't know._

And she was right. The next day, Bill never mentioned anything about her being nosy when she was asked to dance with him and Judy. Besides Elvis, Dean Martin was also one of the roaring, pop icons in New York. Despite the jukebox's blaring noise, they all perfectly timed his song's unforgettable rhythm, while singing only at its chorus:

_My head keeps spinnin'_

_I go to sleep and keep grinnin'_

_If this is just the be-ginnin'_

_My life is gonna be bea-u-tiful_

And, as usual, the last part should be heard the loudest as if it mattered above all the other lyrics:

_Ain't that a kick, IIII-NN THE HEAD!_

The weekend passed by wonderfully. It greatly helped Leslie prepare for the training she had to do before the probably biggest event of her lifetime.

* * *

"Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas…" "Twelve… remainder ssss-ix!"

For the following two weeks, she had memorized all fifty states, even announced them in alphabetic order. Division, and the MDAS rule; all she needed for the academics section of the Olympics were with her.

Judy bought her light kneepads, while Bill took charge in recording her half-mile runs. Each day, she pushed herself gradually to lower her time by about ten seconds, and during each moment, she could see the athletics medal slowly descending in the palm of her hands, except when the winds are strong. Even tied in a bun, her loose strands of hair would keep flying in her eyes' way, which nearly mislead her once into making a left turn farther from home.

She desperately wanted her blasted hair cut, but she couldn't. There's that fashion contest that still needs to be won. Was dressing elegantly so important that the school district decided that it should be part of something huge such as the _Annual School Olympics_? It also boggled her mind that Mr. Thomas mentioned this "gimme-point" part of the competition with such spirit compared to the other two that were _actually _worth her two weeks.

Whatever oddity the school could think of, she, however, mustn't led herself astray just because they are that easy. That night she asked Bill to drive her to a dress shop at Times Square; he agreed to it, unexpectedly.

* * *

"Bill! Look at that," something glittering caught her eye. Before he could even close the distance with the parked car in front of them, she jumped out of theirs and ran towards the transparent glass.

Her green eyes shimmered before the moonlight radiance of the dress imbued with brilliant gold. Something for someone of royalty, such as a queen, or maybe a princess, shouldn't be kept in a display, that poor dress. She forced her eyelids to close once so she wouldn't feel guilty looking away from the majestic sight to face Bill; he was smiling at her glimmering eyes and knew what she hatched in her little head.

She was ready.

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(A/n): Whoo! Another update for Prelude! A little something before I close the chapter:

- I try to be as consistent as possible with what's goin' on in the story, so if there're problems that were overlooked, let me know. It would mean so much to me as an author to be able to learn mistakes, and improve works for my readers!

- Next update will now range up to two months for school/college purposes... Slate's empty, too. :(

Hope you guys enjoyed reading Chapter 3, especially those who now follow the story (^_^ really appreciated it!).

...And Happy Valentines! "Hearts" (since "less than three" isn't working in this doc. :() Explore, love, and be loved! XD

- Ser-A-Man


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